Fettered Friends
by SeathBasma
Summary: (ManlyBadassHero, Cryaotic, Marzia, Markiplier, Minx, and Krism) Deep in the bowels of a horrific corporate beast, a warehouse contains five tanks, filled with the unconscious bodies of internet celebrities. A mysterious man creeps into the facility, set on freeing the imprisoned victims. But his task isn't as simple as flipping a switch. He'll have to free their minds from within.


The dimly lit room was completely still. Bunches of wire faded into darkness as they scaled the immense dark walls like arteries within the belly of a whale. They slithered down from the darkness into the pale green light emanating from five glass orbs arranged in a perfect circle around a hellish black throne. It seemed to be made completely out of black wires save for the black leather seat. The wires twisted and constricted themselves upwards into the darkness like a liana, creating a shiny column at the centre of the warehouse. Occasionally, bubbles would silently emerge within the large glass orbs. They slid along the vulnerable naked body contained within each wicked sphere, only to be pumped out of the jade liquid when they reached the top.

On one side of the warehouse was an observation room. Its sharp white lighting flooded out of its immense bulletproof glass windows and spilled out onto the concrete floor just outside the emerald ring. Within the observation room was chaos. Scientists in white lab coats were working frantically at their computers, running back and forth, nearly colliding with each other. An alarm could be heard buzzing from deeper within the complex. Something had obviously gone very wrong. A thin mist began to emerge from under the observation rooms' door that led to the rest of the facility. The majority of the scientists began to peel away from their computers and flooded around the door, taking off their coats and packing them down in an effort to stop the gas. It began to stream out of the ventilation system. Some scientists took notice and attempted to stand atop rolling chairs to reach the ventilation grills, lab coats in hand, but it was too late. They began to cough, covering their mouths, and sinking to their knees. Some sprawled on their workstations, others knelt on the ground in prayer, and others began to scream and bang on the door. One tried to work his way into the orb room, but as he lacked the proper keycard, breaching the door was impossible. He sank to his knees, gasping for air, but soon joined his co-workers in a deep slumber on the floor. All was silent, save for the distant, droning alarm from behind the packed exit door. All was still for a moment. A bubble drifted upwards from the bottom of a tank.

Like a spider appearing out of nowhere, a figure descended from the rafters on a black line, rappelling down the central cable tree. The figure landed as gracefully as a black cat on its feet next to the ominous throne. As it stood tall and unclipped itself from the line, it became apparent that it was a tall, lean man dressed completely in black. Save for a red scarf covering his mouth, nothing was visible from within his drawn black hoodie. He looked around at the naked figures contained within the globes, all curled into identical fetal positions, then turned to observe the throne. Raising his wrist and clicking a button on his watch, a holographic user interface appeared with several small blue screens. His eyes glinted with the reflection.

"Checkpoint reached. All personnel have been neutralized humanely, as requested." A deep, sensual voice emerged from the dark figure, slightly muffled by the scarf.

"They'll wake up in about an hour. That should be more than enough time. Get inside that interface immediately. A helicopter will be waiting above at exactly 1:34 am. The more people you can get, the better, but she is who I really want. If you don't bring her back, then we have nothing to discuss. Don't fuck this up." The mans' wiry, uneven voice streamed out of the watch, and coiled around the dark man. His shoulders tensed.

"Roger that. I'll contact you when we are in the helicopter." He responded, stiffly.

With another click of a button, the blue screens merged into one and disappeared. The dark man let his arm fall to his side, took a deep breath, and walked up to one of the orbs. The first orb contained a pale, black haired man with a thick beard. His well-rounded figure hid some thick core muscles. The dark man's eyes glinted down at the nameplate. "_Subject 001 - Ryan_". He walked over to the next orb. A tiny, stout, dark-skinned woman was curled up within. her black hair was tied up behind her. "S_ubject 002 - Krism_". Next was a lean man with visible muscle and a strikingly handsome face. His medium-length black hair complimented a scruffy black five o'clock shadow. "_Subject 003 - Mark_". A petite woman with a face reminiscent of a porcelain doll floated with her long, pale brown hair flowing behind her. "_Subject 004 - Marzia_". The dark man paused.

"There you are," he muttered.

He glanced over at the last orb. A tall, thin woman with long brown hair and a purple streak was suspended within. "_Subject 005 - Michelle_" His eyes narrowed. He steeled his determination to not leave anyone behind. Turning on his heel, he approached the central chair. Wires spilled about on the floor in bunches around his polished combat boots. He quickly sat down and reached over his head to pull down a monstrous helmet that was reminiscent of a metal angler fish suspended from above. He whipped his hood off just before the unit swallowed his head. A natty mess of jet black hair framed sharp charcoal brown asian eyes, and strong, angular eyebrows. As the unit swallowed his mind, a huge black screen engulfed his vision. A small text box appeared in the centre of his eyesight.

Eyescan failed.

Please remove any obstructions, such as contact lenses, and try again.

Or, consult the nearest security office for a clearance upgrade.

The man clicked his tongue, annoyed, and made a gesture on his wristwatch. The screen in front of him unfocused and giltched for a moment, before a cheerful chime sounded.

Level 4 Access Granted. Welcome, Dr. Fishburne.

"That's better," the man purred, "Now let's see what we're dealing with."

An array of windows opened before him. Heartrate monitors, vital statistics, live orb cameras, live first-person visual feeds, chat boards, and advertising schedules for each chambered person decorated every inch of the screen. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly, absorbing the horror of what was happening before his eyes. A small flame of anger flickered within him, but quickly diminished under his steel self-control. He had a job to do and a tight schedule to do it. Gesturing with his eyes, he pulled open a maintenance menu. Special workers at the facility were employed to routinely enter the minds of the orb victims, to ensure that everything was working properly, and that no glitches could interfere with their dreams. The maintenance run was on a set order, so choosing which person to liberate first was impossible. What he was planning to do was already pushing his luck, and he didn't want to harm the minds of the victims by being too rash or by cutting corners. He cracked his neck and nodded to himself, before he made a gesture with his watch that uploaded a tiny file to the system. A digital parasite that would allow him to have a little more control over the dreams than the maintenance workers. As soon as it was installed correctly, his eyes focused on an on-screen button.

Initiate Maintenance Run

A force like that of a train hit him from behind and dazed him. He was barely able to realize that a needle had stabbed deep into his neck, before he felt his consciousness being ripped away. A needle automatically jabbed his arm and administered an anesthetic deep within his veins. A moan escaped his lips as his body stiffened and relaxed. Stars billowed out of his mind and danced around his vision until they became so numerous that he could see nothing but white.

The dark room was silent and still once more.


End file.
